Susie Middleton2015-08-02T15:25:10-04:00Susie Middletonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/author/index.php?author=susie-middletonCopyright 2008, HuffingtonPost.com, Inc.HuffingtonPost Blogger Feed for Susie MiddletonGood old fashioned elbow grease.From Broccoli Leaves to Kalettes, New Vegetables to Cook and Grow in 2015tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2015:/theblog//3.64313002015-01-07T15:04:01-05:002015-03-09T05:59:01-04:00Susie Middletonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/susie-middleton/
As both a vegetable farmer and a cookbook author (Fresh From the Farm), I get pretty excited about new vegetable varieties. We have our market favorites we grow every year, but we always try something new--or at least new to us, or a little out of the ordinary. Things like Peppermint Swiss Chard; Artisan Blush Tomatoes; or Ruby Streaks Mustard. Last year I accidentally wound up harvesting a new vegetable--broccoli leaves--when I planted an Italian broccoli, Di Cicco, in our winter hoop house. This broccoli produces a lot of small heads--and a ton of gorgeous, tender, green leaves. After harvesting the heads, I had so many leaves that I began cooking with them, and then selling them at the farm stand. Our customers snapped them right up.

Now, in the latest (Feb./March 2015) issue of Fine Cooking magazine, I see that broccoli leaves are highlighted as a new vegetable soon to be available in supermarkets. Turns out that Foxy Organics is growing and selling broccoli leaves nationwide, under the name of BroccoLeaf. I am so happy to see this, as they are delicious and versatile. Try them in this recipe for Super-Quick Sautéed Greens, Confetti Style or in this recipe for Stir-Fried Broccoli Florets, Stems & Leaves with Orange & Ginger that I did for Vegetarian Times magazine. You're also likely to find more broccoli leaves at farmers' markets this year, too. Farmers have traditionally composted broccoli leaves, but with the increased demand for super-nutritious greens, this will likely change.

We're not saying good-bye to kale, either. In fact, some specialty varieties are becoming more available. I see the delicious paddle-shaped Portuguese kale known as Tronchuda Beira (or sometimes just Beira) in both The Cook's Garden and Burpee catalogs this year. Beira, which resembles collard greens, is the real deal for Portuguese kale soup and is great for the high-summer garden as it tolerates heat better than some kales.

And thanks to kale--and Brussels sprouts--there is a truly fun (okay, cute) new veggie that we'll now be able to grow or find at markets and groceries. Called Kalettes, the small flowerettes are a cross between the two vegetables, originally bred in the U.K. by Tozer Seeds (and called Flower Sprouts) and introduced to the U.S. last year. They'll be in farmers' markets and the grocery this year, or you can grow them from seed available exclusively from Johnny's (listed under both Kalettes and Kaleidoscope Mix). Nutty and a bit sweet, they're delicious sautéed with garlic, chile, Parmigiano and almonds, as in this recipe from cookbook author Domenica Marchetti.

I'm also a lettuce freak, too, and every year I fall in love with another beautiful variety. I now count Freckles, Speckled Amish, and Red-Eared Butterheart as three of my favorites. (And the lovely Bel Fiore radicchio, above.) This year I've got my eye on new Ruby Glow Romaine, which has frilly red leaves and a deep magenta heart. It's on the cover of The Cook's Garden catalog and the seed is available from Burpee as well. You're sure to see this gorgeous lettuce at farmer's markets, too.

The trend toward more colorful vegetables is still rolling, and the Territorial Seeds catalog has a whole section devoted just to purple vegetables. (The purple color generally indicates a high nutritional content). From purple tomatillos and Indigo tomatoes to purple jalapenos and purple peacock broccoli, the colors are dazzling. I've still got my heart set on growing purple-podded peas and red burgundy okra. No stopping the orange trend either: There are cute new ornamental pumpkins with names like Batwing and Cinnamon Girl, a melon called Tigger, and the glorious Tangerine Dream pepper.

Whether you're growing veggies this year or gathering them at your local market, keep your eyes open for all of these delicious and colorful vegetables, and one thing's for sure, meals will not be dull.

Photos by Susie Middleton]]>Dressing up Roasted Brussels Sprouts for the Thanksgiving Tabletag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2014:/theblog//3.61732742014-11-17T15:53:38-05:002015-01-17T05:59:01-05:00Susie Middletonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/susie-middleton/my demos on the Martha Stewart Show the day before Thanksgiving a few years ago. And let's all be happy I get to stay at home this year!)

Once the veggies are cooked, all they need is a little dress-up (aka quick stovetop sauce) to be holiday-table worthy. Ta da! And my vote for this year's table is Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Pomegranate Dressing, Dried Cherries & Toasted Walnuts, a recipe from my newest book, Fresh From the Farm: A Year of Recipes and Stories. (See recipe below.) The quick dressing is a mix of pomegranate juice, balsamic vinegar, honey and lime juice that simmers just for a couple minutes. So good. And instead of roasting the sprouts on a baking sheet as I've done in the past, I use a baking dish in this recipe, allowing for a little more steaming while the outsides of the sprouts are caramelizing. You can certainly use a baking sheet instead for very crispy sprouts.

This year we grew a lovely (though small) crop of Brussels sprouts on the farm, and we even sold a few quarts at our farm stand. (Our small farm is Green Island Farm on Martha's Vineyard.) But I've been hoarding the rest for us! Now they are turning purple since we've had our first frost, and I snapped one off the stalk this morning for a snack--very sweet. But certainly farm-fresh sprouts are not necessary for this recipe; just aim to choose sprouts that are all about the same size, if you have the option. And feel free to double the recipe (and the baking pans) for your Thanksgiving table. And in the spirit of wishing you a delicious holiday, here's a link to 10 more of my favorite holiday sides on sixburnersue.com.

Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Pomegranate Dressing, Dried Cherries & Toasted Walnuts
Recipe copyright Susie Middleton, from Fresh From the Farm: A Year of Recipes and Stories (Taunton Press)
Rustic, festive, yummy. Here's a recipe for your holiday table that brings out both the nutty and the sweet side of roasted Brussels sprouts and manages to feel warming and bright at the same time.
Serves 4

Heat the oven to 475°F. In a mixing bowl, toss the Brussels sprouts with the oil and 3/4 teaspoon salt. Arrange the sprouts in a 9 x 13-inch baking dish (they will be very snug). Roast, stirring once or twice during cooking, until nicely browned and tender, 25 to 27 minutes. Transfer to a mixing bowl.

Combine the pomegranate juice, balsamic vinegar, honey, and lime juice in a small saucepan. Bring the mixture to a simmer over medium-high heat and simmer gently for 2 to 3 minutes, or until the mixture is reduced by about a third. (It will be a bit more viscous but still loose). Remove the pan from the heat, add the dried cherries and the butter, and stir until the butter is just melted and creamy. (Don't reheat the mixture.)

Pour the sauce over the roasted sprouts and stir gently but thoroughly. Add most of the walnuts and herbs and stir well again. Transfer to a serving dish, garnish with the remaining nuts and herbs (and the herb sprigs), and serve right away with lime wedges for seasoning at the table. (A gentle squeeze is enough.)

Photo top, Alexandra Grablewski, from Fresh From the Farm: A Year of Recipes & Stories (Taunton Press, 2014). Photo middle by Susie Middleton.]]>A New Cookbook Asks You to Live Your Dream--And Eat Your Beets, Tootag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2014:/theblog//3.47408792014-02-07T14:35:55-05:002014-04-09T05:59:01-04:00Susie Middletonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/susie-middleton/

I had a pretty simple mission when I wrote my first cookbook -- to help people learn to cook vegetables so that they could really and truly enjoy them. I wanted to inspire people with the versatility of vegetables; I wanted to share cooking techniques I had learned over the years that I knew would turn out delicious results. And I wanted people to have fun cooking vegetables.

It worked. I was focused, my message was clear -- and Fast, Fresh & Greenfound an eager audience. Whew! That's about all a cookbook author can ask for.

Or is it?

I wasn't quite ready to shake anyone's world up when I wrote my second book, The Fresh & Green Table. Well, maybe a little. I did ask folks to consider moving vegetables to the center of the plate -- but in familiar dishes like pastas and salads and soups. Still, it was all about the recipes and techniques, with, of course, my ever-vigilant enthusiasm for having fun in the kitchen lurking in the background.

But this time around, I've gone out on a limb and done something different. Something very personal. I've written a cookbook that tells a story. Fresh From the Farm: A Year of Recipes and Stories is the story of fulfilling a dream I never really knew I had.

I didn't know the dream was real, because I didn't know how to listen to my inner voice. There was too much noise in my world. But that all changed when I hauled myself off to a new life, post mid-life crisis. (I'm sorry to say that if you're looking for the nasty, juicy bits, they're not in this book. The next one -- maybe. This one is about joy and deliciousness and gratitude and baby chicks and strawberry-rhubarb crisp.)

I knew that I wanted to spend more time outdoors, that I wanted to grow vegetables, and that I somehow wanted to be part of the team working to restore real food to the world. I knew I was ready to be my own boss -- and to live on a much smaller budget.

But I didn't know that what I really wanted was a farm stand... and a hoop house... and 500 laying hens! To live my happiest life on a small farm, on the island of Martha's Vineyard, in a tiny old farm house with no insulation and a rescue dog named Farmer. And a handsome carpenter. And a little girl. To snip frilly lettuce and curly kale and toothy arugula from our own beds -- 12 months of the year. To pick bunches of zinnias every August morning and stalk wild blueberries in overgrown fields. To win blue ribbons at the Fair. To grow a jungle of tomato seedlings. To ride on a tractor.

And to slosh through the goopey mud in February to collect eggs from the now-dank chicken coops. To pick the squishy potato beetles off the big sticky eggplant leaves. To weed until the sun sets. To work all day, every day, seven days a week.

See, that's just it -- a dream fulfilled isn't remotely like a fantasy. There's always crappy stuff to deal with. People like to toss around the term "living the dream" as if you've somehow taken up residence in a romance novel. But I think they're missing the point. A dream isn't a dream unless you own it and live it. And feel at last as if your life makes sense.

For me, I knew that cooking and enjoying good food were an important part of the equation. I just didn't realize that growing food and sharing it with my neighbors was key, too. I also didn't realize how important natural beauty and color and shape and texture were to me. I'm mesmerized by the colors of Fairy Tale eggplants and Sunburst squash and fascinated with the patterns of a chicken's feathers. I've discovered that I love photographing the farm because it allows me to hold on to snippets of beauty. (Before I go all ju-ju on you, I do have to say that enjoying the natural landscape has become a spiritual thing for me, too. I had to tell you that, because it's the truth. And it's something I apparently missed desperately in my old office life.)

I wish I could show you every single one of the 200 photos that are in Fresh From the Farm, because they're an important part of the story.

And it's funny, as a result of this low-budget farm life I lead (which means very few restaurant dinners), cooking is even more important now than it ever was. And it can be really challenging, too. Nothing's worse than letting fresh food go to waste, so often I'm playing around with yet another way to cook something.

So eat your beets. Try growing baby bok choy (it's easy, I promise!). Build a little chicken coop (we've got a design for one in the book!). Make a Winter Market Meatloaf for your sweetie or Chinese Grilled Chicken and Bibb Lettuce Wraps with your kids. Enjoy cooking and food for the beauty and pleasure it brings us. And while you're reading Fresh From the Farm, think about what your own inner voice might be saying if you stopped to listen to it. You just never know. Here's a video sneak-peek of mine.

This easy and delicious side dish is a great way to introduce people to roasted beets--or beets in general. You'll love it, too, because the small-diced beets cook in only 25 minutes--no boiling or long, slow roasting here. This is also the kind of dish that's as nice in winter as it is in summer. If you can find golden beets, use a mix of colors here. Or you can also substitute carrots for half of the beets.

Heat the oven to 450°F. Cover two heavy-duty sheet pans with parchment paper. Keeping the red and golden beets separate (if using both colors), cut them into medium-small dice (no more than about 1/2-inch). Put each color in a bowl and toss with 2 teaspoons olive oil and 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt. Transfer each bowl of beets to separate sheet pans and spread in one layer. Roast until the veggies are tender and shrunken, about 25 minutes. Transfer to a mixing bowl.

Put the orange juice, raspberry jam, and balsamic vinegar in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir or whisk continuously until the jam is completely melted and the sauce is slightly more viscous (it may be steaming but it should not boil), about two to four minutes. Remove the pan from the heat and immediately add the cold butter. Swirl the pan until the butter is melted and the sauce is slightly creamy. Add the cranberries and thyme and stir. Pour and scrape the balsamic butter with the cranberries over the roasted beets and mix and toss gently. Add most of the pecans and stir gently again. Transfer to a serving bowl and garnish with the remaining nuts and herb leaves (if using).

It's nothing short of an act of God that I was able to transform a strange longing to be better connected to my food into a rural life of growing vegetables and raising laying hens. Sometimes, in fact, it seems so otherworldly to me, that I feel like writing about it in any authoritative sense is kind of a sham. (Fortunately, things like cleaning chicken coops, living on a small budget, and battling cabbage worms quickly bring me back to reality.)

I also realize that any kind of farming is a leap of faith. Whether you're a young person setting out, determined to be a Grower of Things, or a mid-life changer like me, intent on a less stressful lifestyle, or someone who grew up on a farm who wants simply to continue working in this age-old profession, you know it will be hard and that there will be failures. But that's true of the best things. And the secret, I now realize, is that it is possible to succeed.

So if you're willing to hang with me here (knowing I'm not the last-word-expert on any of this), I'll give you a list of things that worked for us in our small farm start-up, in case you're dreaming (or acting on the dream) of starting one.

Consider leasing or renting land, rather than taking on a mortgage. The two biggest challenges for beginning farmers are getting access to farmable land and avoiding crushing debt. So if you can get going without a heavy mortgage, it's ideal. A great way to do this--and get access to land you might not have considered--is to look at the leasing and renting opportunities in your community.

In our small but vibrant farming community, we have several examples of how renting is working. We have farmers leasing land for very reasonable rates from land conservation groups like the Martha's Vineyard Land Bank Commission and the Sherriff's Meadow Foundation. We have farmers leasing town-owned land directly from the town itself. We have young farmers renting small pieces of land from older farmers who are not actively farming the whole property but still want to see the land worked. And in our case, we rented an old farmhouse as a place to live, and it happened to come with enough land to plant a large market garden. The house was the original homestead for a large acreage farm which has been parceled up, and fortunately, once we got to know our landlords, they agreed to lease us one of those parcels (a 4-acre piece adjacent to us) to expand our enterprise.

Start small and use your land wisely. And don't quit your day job. If you research your market (see below) and plant smartly, you can grow or raise a lot of food in a small space and be profitable (take in more money than you spend!) with a market garden. By keeping things manageable, you can still do off-farm work while you learn a bit about farming. (Realistically, you're looking at a future that will always involve some off-farm work, so it is good to acclimate to juggling your time.)

For the first three years of our start-up, we were profitable (without paying ourselves anything other than in food) and always able to carry over some money to invest in the next year. This year, after forming an LLC and expanding our egg operation, we were profitable, paid ourselves a small salary, and held over enough to reinvest. And we still had time to do other income-producing work.

Plan your expansion carefully. The second year we doubled the size of our market garden. The third year we built a hoop house, which extended our growing season and cash flow throughout the year, rather than piling on more work in high summer. (The hoop house also solved a very real problem of where to put seedlings and plant starts.) Then we made a conscious decision to expand the egg operation next. And finally this year we have a new, additional quarter-acre plot tilled and enhanced for more vegetables.

Do your market research. There's a big demand for local eggs where we live, and after raising 50 laying hens in our second year and finding ourselves continually undersupplied for the demand, we targeted laying hens and eggs as our primary farm business. (We now have 550 laying hens and more on the way.) We also made this decision based on our own strengths. My partner is a builder and carpenter (and expert salvager-of-materials!) so we were able to build the coops efficiently and with a budget that still made the numbers look good. But you may find that something like growing boutique vegetables for restaurant chefs is a good niche for you to fill in your area.

Consider writing a business plan and reading farm business books. Thankfully, I was forced into learning how to write a small business plan when we applied for an opportunity to lease a much larger and historic piece of farm land (which we ultimately did not get) and were required to submit a pretty comprehensive plan. I carried that knowledge over to writing a business plan and cash flow analysis for our existing farm once we decided to really go for it. (And doing that gave us confidence about purchasing a large amount of hens for our egg operation.)

The book that was most helpful to me was Starting & Running Your Own Farm Business by Sarah Beth Aubrey. I also got some valuable tips from Making Your Small Farm Profitable by Ron Macher. I learned to use QuickBooks Online to keep track of our expenses and income; without it, I'd never have time to keep the books up properly, or have access to the valuable analytics it provides me. I also regularly read a great publication called Growing for Market, and I keep an ear out for announcements from state and federal agencies about grants and programs available to new and beginning farmers. A membership in your local organic organization (ours is NOFA) will keep you abreast of opportunities for learning and networking, too.

Do the work you enjoy most, and make your farm work for the lifestyle you want. I am crazy about vegetables; my partner enjoys working with birds. And we both love working outside. So I manage most of the vegetables and our small farmstand; he runs the chicken operation and builds and maintains all farm structures. So most of the time, we can both get pretty excited about our farm chores.

Best of all, the farm puts delicious food on our table--and helps me develop delicious recipes for my work. It allows us to contribute to our community by providing another source of local food for our neighbors. And it lets us participate in the practice of raising animals humanely.

Of course the farm lifestyle has its drawbacks (traveling gets tricky and work is nonstop), but if you step into it mindfully, you'll soon know if its right for you.

Susie Middleton is the author of Fresh From the Farm: A Year of Recipes and Stories (Taunton Press, Feb. 2014); The Fresh & Green Table (Chronicle Books, 2012); Fast, Fresh & Green (Chronicle Books, 2010). She blogs about vegetable cooking and life on Green Island Farm on Martha's Vineyard at www.sixburnersue.com]]>Golden Galette Tops the List of All-time Favorite Potato Recipestag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.43253552013-11-26T22:14:33-05:002014-01-26T05:59:02-05:00Susie Middletonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/susie-middleton/

As the author of three "fresh" cookbooks, I'm supposed to say kale is my favorite vegetable. Or Brussels sprouts. Honestly, I like these veggies; but I would lie down on the train tracks for a potato gratin, a plate of crispy fingerlings, or a slice of Golden Gruyère Potato Galette (see below). Mashed, smashed, braised, slow-sautéed -- however you cook them, potatoes are pure comfort. They're also fun and easy to work with in the kitchen, so you can create something brilliant with them without fear of failure (or alienating the in-laws). I say, the holidays are stressful enough, so let's make something we know everyone will like and that you'll enjoy cooking, too.

And speaking of fun in the kitchen, right up at the top of my list of the most loved potato dishes I've developed over the years is this layered "galette" of Yukon Gold potatoes and gruyere cheese, baked in a tart or cheesecake pan. (Photo above; see recipe below.) It's similar to the French dish called Potatoes Anna, except there's no stovetop flipping involved. And while you could also think of this as kind of a potato pie, there's no tricky crust to fiddle with here, either. And I even give you a tip for thinly slicing your potatoes without using a finger-unfriendly mandoline. (Cut a sliver off the bottom of the potato first to stabilize it.) Arranging the potatoes and cheese in layers is satisfying in a craftsy kind of way, and the whole thing can be baked ahead, popped out of the pan, cut into pieces, and reheated at the last minute. Did I mention that it is absolutely delicious? And versatile, too -- great with roast meats, but equally appealing in a warm salad with dressed greens.

Okay, just in case the galette doesn't work for you this Thanksgiving, here's the rest of my top ten favorite potato recipes I've developed over the years (for winter enjoyment), including fabulous mashed potatoes and a heavenly potato gratin. And stand by for more potato recipes (including Grill-Roasted Fingerlings with Rosemary, Lemon, Sea Salt & Fresh Corn Vinaigrette) coming in my new book, Fresh from the Farm: A Year of Recipes and Stories. (We grow a lot of potatoes here on our little farm on Martha's Vineyard. The problem is that we sell most of them at our farm stand, leaving us longing for more. Maybe next year.)

Be sure to use good Parmigiano and Gruyère cheese in this recipe. With so few ingredients, the quality (and flavor) of the cheese makes a different. You can substitute fresh thyme for the rosemary if you like. Stick with yellow-fleshed potatoes for this recipe; red skinned-potatoes and Idahos do not work as well here. No need to peel the potatoes. For this recipe, you will need a tart pan or cheesecake pan with a removable bottom.

Heat the oven to 375°F and arrange one rack in the middle of the oven. Rub a 9-inch tart pan or a 9 ½-inch cheesecake pan with ½ teaspoon of the olive oil. (Make sure the pan has a removable bottom.)

Put the potatoes on your cutting board and trim a small slice off the bottom of each to stabilize it. Trim off and discard the very ends of the potatoes. Then cut the potatoes crosswise into very thin slices. (Use a sharp, thin-bladed (but strong) knife--a Santoku knife works great for cutting thin potato slices, and a ceramic knife is a great option, too.) Slice as thinly as you can, but don't worry in the least if the slices are inconsistent; the galette will still cook evenly as long as you don't include any really thick slices. If you have a mandoline, you can certainly use it, but you don't need to.

Put the potato slices, the chopped rosemary, and the remaining 3 tablespoons of olive oil into a mixing bowl and toss thoroughly to coat.

Cover the bottom of the pan with a layer of potato slices, starting by making a ring of slightly overlapping slices all the way around the outside edge, and then working inward, laying down more rings of slightly overlapping slices until the bottom is covered. Sprinkle the potatoes with a tiny bit of kosher salt (about 1/8 teaspoon) and then sprinkle about 1/3 of the gruyere and 1/3 of the Parmigiano over all. Arrange another layer of potatoes over that, season again with salt, sprinkle with 1/3 of each cheese again, and finish with a top layer of potatoes and cheese.

Bake the galette until the top is golden brown and a fork easily pierces the layers of potato, about 45 to 50 minutes. Let the galette cool for 10 to 15 minutes in the pan. Run a thin knife around the edge to unstick any cheese and remove the cheesecake ring or the tart ring, leaving the galette on the bottom of the pan. Use a thin spatula to gently release the galette from the pan bottom, and transfer the galette to a cutting board. Cut into 6 or 8 pie-shaped pieces. Serve warm.

Serves 6 to 8

Cook/writer/farmer Susie Middleton is the author of Fast, Fresh & Green; The Fresh & Green Table, and Fresh from the Farm: A Year of Recipes and Stories. She blogs about vegetable cooking and life on a small farm on Martha's Vineyard at sixburnersue.com.]]>Eating Locally, Slowly But Surelytag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.12704002012-02-13T18:53:19-05:002012-04-14T05:12:01-04:00Susie Middletonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/susie-middleton/
It's funny when I think about it now, because coming from the on-demand, fast-paced arena of my old life, I thought I could transform myself into a model sustainable eater overnight when I moved to Martha's Vineyard. I was used to getting things done quickly so I threw myself into my new quest. I drove around and found the farms that sold fresh eggs (and the two or three with freezers full of bacon and pork chops and ground beef); I followed friends to their secret watercress steams and plucked mussels off of rocks in hidden coves. I watched a neighbor milk her goats, and another make cheese. I participated in Eat Local weeks and Living Local festivals, don't you know! I planted a little vegetable garden as soon as I could.

But still I was mostly dependent on the grocery store. (And, unfortunately, very dependent during the times I was developing recipes for two cookbooks, since I needed to work with standard products that would be the same for everyone across the country.) But I kept moving in a good direction.

First I joined a CSA, then I found a way to grow more of my own vegetables, and then I moved to a house where I could truly grow (and even sell!) a lot of vegetables -- and keep laying hens, too. I started learning to put things by, and to keep greens growing through the winter. This fall, I successfully cured and stored our huge crop of onions (we still have some!). I froze excess green beans and corn kernels and roasted tomatoes. I dug up our rutabagas and turnips in December and wrapped them carefully to keep in the fridge for months. We've got dried cranberry beans in the pantry, dried coriander seeds on the spice shelf, our own eggs in the fridge, and arugula in the garden. Somehow, the lip-service I've always paid to "cooking seasonally" has become a reality; there are no asparagus or strawberries in my winter fridge (just a few wild raspberries in the freezer), making the anticipation and satisfaction of spring eating all the greater.

While I was stumbling along my path of discovery, good things were happening all around me -- things I benefited from just as a bystander. A hardworking group of concerned citizens formed Island Grown Initiative and Island Grown Schools and brought local chicken to all of us (through a Mobile Poultry Processor) and local farm veggies and school gardens to kids across the Island. A new dairy started up, and another began selling delicious yogurt and feta cheese. Our Farmer's Market organizers got together to extend the season and host an indoor Winter Market. Slow Food planned "Meet Your Farmer" potlucks. A gleaning group formed and collected vegetables from generous farms to deliver to elderly housing, the jail, and the Island Food Pantry. You couldn't help but become more aware of locally grown food if you were just a tiny bit open to hearing about it.

Good things take time, I've finally learned. (Patience is new to me.) Looking back now, I realize that the road to eating locally and sustainably is a slow, deliberate one -- something you grow into, rather than rush into. It's hard for all of us quick-fixers to realize that if we want to change (or want the world to change), we must take a lot of baby steps, rather than flipping a switch. But I'm optimistic, especially today, because I just watched this video that will air on national television during the Grammy Awards tomorrow night.

If you haven't seen Chipotle Mexican Grill's animated short ad ("Back to the Start"), you will truly be moved by the way the video captures (ironically, in two minutes) the lurching and inelegant transition we made in this country from small farms to factory farming, and now back (we hope) to a way of raising animals and growing food that is at least a bit more sustainable than feedlots and manure lagoons. I know that's a big Hope, and that things sometimes seem to be moving in slow motion. But if a company as big as Chipotle can source and promote sustainable food and animal welfare -- and spread the message to a huge national television audience -- then I'm thinking anything is possible. Certainly I've seen what a small community like the one I live in can do in just a few years time. And while I'm not quite as far along as I'd like to be (I'm taking a canning class next!), I've found that plodding can be pretty good for the soul -- and the stomach.

]]>Problem-Solving Veggie Side Dish Recipes for Thanksgivingtag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2011:/theblog//3.11081492011-11-23T10:42:12-05:002012-01-23T05:12:01-05:00Susie Middletonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/susie-middleton/Problem: The oven is full. The turkey's in there, maybe a pan of stuffing, too. But wait, you've got a second oven! Only you still have to bake the pie -- and the lasagna you always offer along with the turkey. So, um, where will the vegetables go?

Here are three solutions, no matter how many ovens you have. I've used them all over the years, much to my relief.

First: Quick-roast the veggies when the turkey comes out of the oven. (The turkey needs time to rest before carving, any way.) Crank up the heat to 450° or 475°, toss the cut veggies in olive oil and salt, and roast on sheet pans until tender and brown -- only about 20 minutes for most veggies. Make a quick dressing or pan sauce on the stovetop and dress the warm veg with it. Easy. You can do this with all kinds of veggies, including green beans, broccoli, cauliflower, and sweet potatoes. But I especially love these three recipes for Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Orange Butter Sauce, Vanilla and Cardamom Glazed Acorn Squash Rings, and Roasted Turnips and Pears with Rosemary-Honey Drizzle. (While I originally developed these for my cookbook Fast, Fresh & Green, I'm linking you to the versions on The Martha Stewart Show site because I doubled them here to serve more people for the holiday. Plus, as it happens, the segment I did last year demonstrating these dishes will re-air on Thanksgiving day if you are so inclined to flip the TV channel from the parade!)

Second: Take advantage of the stovetop. You can make a good amount of glazed carrots in a 12-inch nonstick skillet. Green beans are lovely if you boil them just until they lose their toothiness (about 4 or 5 minutes) and dress with warm brown butter and nuts or a warm vinaigrette. (Check out my Pomegranate-Balsamic Glazed Carrots and Green Beans with Crispy Pancetta, Mushrooms, and Shallots on finecooking.com) Tender cooking greens like spinach and Swiss chard (as well as baby kale leaves and finely slivered tougher kale and collards) need only a swipe through a hot pan rimmed with garlic-infused oil to be an ultra-quick last minute side. Give them a splash of vinegar and a quick grating of a good hard cheese to finish. Or dress them up a bit, like in my Tuscan Kale with Blood Oranges (you'd need to double that recipe for the holiday). But perhaps my favorite stovetop time saver is this tip: Make mashed potatoes (like these Mashed Yukon Gold Potatoes with Roasted Garlic on sixburnersue.com) an hour or two ahead of dinner and hold them, covered, over a simmering pot of water; they'll stay warm and creamy.

Third: Reheat. Heresy, I know. But sometimes you have to be heretical to survive on Thanksgiving. (Come to think of it, you'd be downright crazy if you didn't try to make at least some things ahead.) Some of my favorite Thanksgiving dishes are gratins and casseroles like this Gratin of Butternut Squash, Corn & Leeks and this Bourbon Sweet Potato and Apple Casserole with a Pecan Crust. While gratins and casseroles may suffer a bit in texture when reheated, they will actually taste even better; just be gentle and use a 350° oven for no more than about 20 to 25 minutes so they don't dry out. (Again, an open window of time while the turkey rests.) If the topping doesn't need to be crisp, reheat loosely covered, or drizzle on a little extra broth for moistening before reheating. Even better, pick a dish that's tailor-made for reheating, like this delicious sounding Mashed Potato and Rutabaga Gratin I spotted in the latest issue of Fine Cooking magazine from cookbook author Molly Stevens. Nothing heretical about that!

I've been thinking a lot about simplicity lately. The simpler my life gets, the happier I am. I've had to bang my head around a good deal to get this message through my thick skull, and it hasn't been pretty. But now that I've arrived safely in the land of Simple, I feel like I should pass on some tips. Especially cooking tips.

Sometimes I feel like a wretched vacuum cleaner salesman, the way I go on about how easy it is to cook vegetables, how delicious they are... how everyone should just cook more at home and we'd all be healthier! Skinnier! Happier! Just follow this recipe! Read my blog! Buy my book! It's easy, delicious, quick. For Pete's sake, who invented this character called a Food Writer?

What if we just stripped out all the hype and zeroed in on the practical stuff: What can I cook on a Tuesday night that everyone will like... that doesn't require a culinary diploma... and that doesn't involve an emergency run to the specialty grocer?

To answer that question, I thought it would be great to come up with a dozen suggestions that don't use any more than three or four ingredients (not including salt and some kind of cooking fat -- olive oil, usually). We're talking veggies here, since that is, honestly, my specialty -- no false advertising, I promise. I'll admit, I did adapt some of these ideas from a cookbook of mine, but it seemed like a good place to start. Here goes:

1. Sweet Potato Fries: Cut unpeeled sweet potatoes into short skinny sticks, toss thoroughly with olive oil and salt, spread in one layer on a lined baking sheet, roast at 450 degrees until lightly browned all over. Sprinkle with more salt and serve with a squeeze of lime and/or sour cream.

2. Sautéed Sugar Snap Peas and Salami. Cut a couple slices of deli salami into thin strips. Heat a little olive oil in a big nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add a few generous handfuls of sugar snap peas and cook, stirring constantly, just until they begin to blister and turn brown. Add the salami strips and continue cooking until the salami is mostly crisp and browned, another few minutes. Remove from heat and serve right away, tossed with fresh mint if you like.

4. Stir-Fried Baby Bok Choy. Cut a couple little heads of baby bok choy lengthwise into quarters and wash well. Heat a few teaspoons of peanut oil or canola oil in a stir-fry pan, or wok over medium-high heat. Add one clove of thinly sliced garlic and the bok choy. Cook, stirring or flipping constantly (kitchen tongs are handy here) until the bok choy is well-browned and tender.

6. Grilled Portobello & Arugula Salad. Remove stems from mushrooms, scrape out gills with a spoon, drizzle with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Heat gas-grill to medium and cook mushroom caps, stem side up, until liquid pools in caps and the underside is well-browned. Flip and grill for a just a couple minutes more. Arrange arugula on plates. Slice mushroom caps and arrange over arugula. Drizzle with additional balsamic and olive oil (or your favorite salad dressing). A smattering of crumbled blue cheese or a few halved tiny tomatoes would be nice with this, too.

7. Roasted Fingerlings with Watercress. Slice fingerling potatoes cross-wise into 1/2-inch coins. Toss with olive oil and salt, spread in one layer on a baking sheet, and roast at 450 degrees for about 20 minutes, until lightly browned underneath and tender. Mound on a bed of watercress, make a quick dressing from lemon and olive oil (and a bit of Dijon if you like), and drizzle over all.

8. Caramelized Carrots with Fresh Ginger. In a skillet or sauté pan that has a lid, heat a little butter and olive oil together over medium heat. To the pan, add a half-pound of carrots, peeled and cut into short, thin sticks. Season with salt, cover and cook slowly, stirring often, until the carrots are golden and tender, about 12 to 15 minutes. Add a teaspoon of minced fresh ginger to the pan, along with a teaspoon of cold butter, and stir and cook for a few seconds until the ginger is fragrant and the butter is creamy. Serve with chopped fresh mint or cilantro, if you like.

9. Tomato and Peach Salad. Cut small cherry tomatoes in half or beefsteak tomatoes into 1-inch chunks and put in a mixing bowl. Add one or two peaches, peeled and cut into small chunks. Toss with a little bit of orange juice, sherry vinegar, and olive oil. Add slivered red onions and torn basil or mint leaves, if you like. Serve right away.

10. Crunchy Limey Slaw. Toss about 2 cups shredded Savoy cabbage with a few teaspoons of fresh lime juice, a couple teaspoons of sugar, and a half-teaspoon of salt. Add chopped fresh cilantro and sliced scallions, if you like. Let sit and toss occasionally until just barely wilted, about 20 minutes.

11. Toasted Fresh Corn with Scallion Cream. Cut the kernels off of three or four ears of corn. Heat a little butter and olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat and add the corn and a little salt. Cook, stirring frequently, until the corn is just lightly browned (or "toasted"). (Any more and it will start popping out of the pan.) Add a tablespoon or two of very thinly sliced scallions and cook until slightly softened. Add a tablespoon of cream and lots of fresh pepper, stir and remove from pan.

12. Roasted Broccoli with Dipping Sauce. Cut two small crowns of broccoli into small florets and toss with olive oil and salt. Spread in one layer on a lined sheet pan and roast for 12 to 15 minutes at 450 degrees -- just until crisp around the edges and brown on the bottom. Make a quick dipping sauce of soy sauce, brown sugar and chopped fresh ginger. (A bit of lemon or lime juice and sliced scallions are optional). Eat the florets with your fingers, dipped in the sauce.

Susie Middleton lives, cooks, and grows vegetables on Martha's Vineyard. She is the author of Fast, Fresh & Green (Chronicle Books, 2010) and Fresh & Green for Dinner (Chronicle Books, 2012). She blogs about vegetables and life on a farm-ette on www.sixburnersue.com.
]]>Eating Less is Good, But How About Eating (and Cooking) at Home?tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2011:/theblog//3.8174882011-02-02T16:00:47-05:002011-05-25T18:30:24-04:00Susie Middletonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/susie-middleton/vegetable cookbooks, I am certainly happy about at least one aspect of the government's new dietary guidelines: the recommendation that we fill half our plates with vegetables. And in general, I applaud the straightforward advice to "Eat Less" and move more. But something has been bothering me, and I realized what it was this morning as I was reading some of the documents associated with the new guidelines. Nowhere in the guidelines' takeaway points for consumers do I see the suggestion to "cook your own food." The guidelines, in fact, are too cryptic about this one fact: Bad fats, excess sodium, and refined sugars are the darlings of processed food and fast food, not home cooking.

As a cook, this worries me for a few reasons. First, I'm afraid that for the average consumer, the guidelines (though I realize their principal use is for food-service professionals) will be confusing. It's hard to get a quick grasp on some of the suggestions. As Marion Nestle points out, the guidelines "steer clear of actually naming bad-for-you foods, which would be helpful for today's busy consumer, and they use too many euphemisms."

And I am even more worried about the misunderstanding that can result from just getting the sound bites: Less salt! Less fat! I don't want people to think they need to cook with less flavor. Because if people are going to eat better, they're going to have to stop eating out so much -- or grabbing food on the run -- and start eating more food at home, which means cooking for themselves. And cooking good food involves seasoning judiciously with a little salt to bring out the best flavors; it involves cooking with good fats like olive oil, not only to keep vegetables and other foods moist and flavorful and to bring out their best flavor, but also to help access their nutrients.

The simple truth is that there's no way the processed food and restaurant industries can react quickly enough and effectively enough to single-handedly reduce obesity through less fat and salt in their products and by decreasing portion size. I surely wish they would or could, but I don't have a lot of confidence in the speed with which this can happen. Any major shift in our eating habits in this country (and a reduction in the enormous costs associated with poor diets) is going to involve a return to more home cooking, which, by its very nature, emphasizes whole foods, balance, and smaller portions.

Eating better means developing a repertoire of tasty home-cooked dishes (and snacks)--and infusing our home cooking with some of the fun flavors and textures we get from take-out food. I'd love to see more ideas circulated, not just in USDA documents, for replacing store-bought or take-out food with good home cooking. (I've included some thought-starters below.) And on the next round of guideline development, I'd love to see the USDA pair a few cooks with the nutritionists and scientists. Maybe then the guidelines could include more concrete suggestions for ways to implement the ideas in your own kitchen at home, and could more overtly promote home cooking. (There is some acknowledgment in the full document for the need for better cooking skills.) But I'd love even a shift in the repetitive use of the direction to "choose" this or that type of food. How about "cook" this or that type of food, instead. "Eat less," is good. "Eat (and cook) at home," is better.

Replace Bottled Salad Dressing with Homemade Vinaigrette. Make an easy vinaigrette with 3 parts olive oil, 1 part wine vinegar, a pinch of salt, a few grinds of pepper, a smidge of garlic, and a dab of mustard. Eat salad every night!

Replace Frosted Deli Cupcakes or Snack Cakes with Berries, Greek Yogurt & Honey Parfait. Make the easiest dessert or whole-foods snack ever by layering raspberries or blueberries with Greek yogurt, a drizzle of honey, and a scattering of granola or toasted oats. Assemble ahead and take to work, too.

Turn No Vegetables into Lots of Vegetables. Roast veggies every night: Cut a combo of carrots, sweet potatoes, butternut squash, turnips, etc. into small dice, toss with a little olive oil and salt and roast at 450° 'til golden and tender. Add greens by wilting baby spinach or very thinly sliced collards or kale in a skillet with a little chopped garlic, red pepper flakes and olive oil. Or use the stir-fry pan to make the quickest ever broccoli, mushroom and bell pepper stir-fry.

Susie Middleton is the author of Fast, Fresh & Green: More than 90 Delicious Recipes for Vegetable Lovers (Chronicle Books, 2010). Her next cookbook is a collection of vegetable main dishes, to be published by Chronicle Books in 2012. Susie blogs weekly about veggies at Sixburnersue.com.
]]>Call Me a Vegivore, Call me Whatever, Just Cook Something, Please! (Recipe Included)tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2010:/theblog//3.7856412010-11-18T16:25:23-05:002011-05-25T18:15:22-04:00Susie Middletonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/susie-middleton/Americans are eating less vegetables than ever. (And I was particularly annoyed that I had to find this out from my very favorite New York Times reporter, Kim Severson. I hate when nice people deliver bad news.) The next minute I feel a strange squirminess, when I read that Vegetables are the Trend of the Minute in New York. (Should I be happy or worried about this?) This news was also delivered to me via a favorite reporter, Tom Philpott, of Grist.org, who cited an article in New York magazine about the new "vegivore" (someone who loves vegetables, rather than someone who hates meat.)

Philpott points out that this "trend" (to cook and eat vegetables as a main event, but not necessarily sans meat on the plate) has actually been building among cooks and eaters for many years, and he cites the enthusiastic carnivores who began heartily embracing the likes of Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyonein the late1990s. He fast forwards to the present, kindly mentioning that Susie Middleton's cookbookFast, Fresh & Green (a collection of 90+ vegetable recipes organized by cooking technique) is a worthy contemporary successor to Madison's works. I bring this up, not only because I am always happy to be mentioned in the same breath as Deborah Madison, but also because Philpott can articulate what I struggle with. "If ideas championed by the likes of Madison and Middleton are suddenly the foodie trend of the moment in New York, I hope the trend has legs and staying power."

Me too! Me too! But the creeping-doubt-syndrome returns when I think about the quotes from people in Severson's article who think vegetables are "a pain," "intimidating," and "a lot less fun" than some other foods. I understand these sentiments to a certain extent, as I feel like you a) have to enjoy spending a little bit of time in the kitchen and b) have some basic cooking skills--in order to prepare tasty vegetables. Even though I offer 9 different ways to cook vegetables in my book (with lots of tips and instructions and easy flavor-boosters), I do say at the get-go that this is a cookbook, and you will actually be cooking, not assembling. But the payoff is huge, I go on to say.

It all comes down to flavor. I think the authors of the New York magazine article hit on one major reason for the popularity of vegetables in New York--people are beginning to realize that vegetables taste good (thanks to some good cooks and chefs who are preparing them well). For me, flavor is a huge motivation - for eating or cooking. (Well, isn't it for everyone?) I love things that taste good, and once I started caramelizing onions, roasting tomatoes, and browning my broccoli, I started to eat more vegetables. I love high-heat cooking methods (especially roasting and sautéing, but grilling and stir-frying, too), because they bring out the sweeter side of veggies.

My theory on this whole "why aren't Americans eating more vegetables" conundrum is that many folks have not eaten enough really tasty vegetables or they're at a loss on how to prepare them. (When I'm out demo-ing, I hear from a lot of people who tell me they're stuck in a vegetable rut, either because they're not sure how to cook veggies more than one way, or they're afraid family members won't eat the veggies if they try something different.) Since I'm not a vegetarian or a nutritionist or a specialist in any kind of diet, I come at this conundrum mostly from a cook's point of view.

To me, the solution boils down to encouraging folks to get in the kitchen and mess around a little with vegetables. To that end, I offer a good place to start (see below), because, after all, I can write ad nauseam about this stuff, but the truth lies in the cooking, or more accurately, the recipe: If the ingredient list is short, the directions are easy to follow, and the results turn out to be tasty, maybe you (or I or someone who doesn't think he likes veggies) will make this again, because it's kind of a kick and pretty darn delicious.

So whether you're looking to get friendly with vegetables or looking for an easy and delicious Thanksgiving side dish, the recipe below for Vanilla Cardamom Maple Glazed Acorn Squash Rings could be your ticket. And if you already love to cook, pass this on to someone who's tentative.

P.S. You can see me demo this and other quick-roasting recipes from Fast, Fresh & Green, on The Martha Stewart Show Wednesday, Nov. 24 at 10 a.m. on the Hallmark Channel.

Vanilla and Cardamom Glazed Acorn Squash Rings

The buttery glaze that tops these delicious squash rings is more subtly flavored than it sounds. But it adds just the right amount of sweetness and interest to the earthy flavor and silky texture of roasted acorn squash. You might think a cumbersome vegetable like an acorn squash might take a long time to cook, but it's easy to quick-roast it by cutting it into pretty rings or half-rings (as I do here). Because of the relatively thin slices, I find the skin perfectly edible, but it's also easy enough to eat the flesh and leave the roasted skin behind (just pick a slice up and nibble it!). These are perfect for Thanksgiving, too, as you can pop the sheet pan into the oven when the turkey comes out to rest. (They take less than 25 minutes to cook.) And with a second baking sheet, you can easily double or triple the recipe. Rotate the baking sheets halfway through cooking.

Preheat the oven to 475˚F. Line a large heavy-duty rimmed sheet pan with a piece of parchment paper.

With a sharp chef's knife, cut the acorn squash in half lengthwise (through both the stem end and the pointy end). Scrape out the seeds and fibers with a spoon. Put each half, cut side down, on a cutting board. Slice off about 3/4 inch from each end and discard. Slice the squash crosswise into 1/2-inch thick half-rings. If you want, you can trim away any remaining fibers from the rings by running a paring knife around the inside of each. Put the half-rings on the parchment paper.

In a small saucepan, melt the 2 tablespoons butter over low heat. Remove the pan from the heat and add the maple syrup, vanilla, and cardamom. Stir well. Use a pastry brush to lightly brush the squash pieces with a little less than half of the mixture. Season the pieces very lightly with salt and turn them over. Brush this side with more of the mixture, but reserve about 1 tablespoon for brushing on after cooking. (If using a larger squash and you wind up with a little bit less than 1 tablespoon of liquid, add 1 or 2 teaspoons more butter to the saucepan.) Season the tops very lightly with salt.

Roast the squash for 12 minutes. Use tongs to flip the pieces over. Continue to roast until they are nicely browned (the bottoms will be browner then the tops) and tender when pierced with a paring knife, 10 to 12 minutes more.

Flip the pieces over again when they come out of the oven so that the browner side is up.

Reheat the butter mixture briefly over low heat if necessary (or to melt the additional butter). Brush the butter mixture over the squash slices and serve.

Serves 3

Note: If you want to cut whole squash rings (a little trickier) rather than halves, trim away about 3/4 inch from both ends of the squash first and carefully slice it crosswise into 1/2-inch rings. Run a paring knife around the inside of the rings to remove excess fibers and seeds.

This recipe is from Fast, Fresh & Green: More than 90 Delicious Recipes for Veggie Lovers, by Susie Middleton, published by Chronicle Books, 2010. Susie blogs about vegetables on her website, sixburnersue.com, and is currently at work on her second cookbook, Fresh & Green for Dinner, a collection of vegetable-centered main dishes to be published by Chronicle Books in Spring, 2012.

]]>Farm Stand Economics: From a First-Time, Micro-Grower's Point of Viewtag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2010:/theblog//3.6736792010-08-06T14:38:06-04:002011-05-25T17:15:21-04:00Susie Middletonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/susie-middleton/Fast, Fresh & Green -- a collection of vegetable side dishes -- just went into its third printing!). But with weeding, watering, harvesting, cleaning, stocking the farm stand, re-seeding beds, and chasing after various pests in the garden, it's not really a 25- or 30-percent time suck. More like 50%. It's hard work, and it's tiring. But here's the thing: I love it.

Since this is National Farmers' Market Week, I thought I'd share a little of my first-time growers' experience. I just read that farmers' markets, farm stands, and U-pick operations still (despite a big leap this year) only account for .4 percent of the food economy, so I'm happy to be doing my part (.000001 percent, maybe?) to make local food more available. Better still, I now know what I suspected all along -- that folks who get into small-scale growing are not in it for the money, but for the pleasure of working outdoors and growing their own food -- and a little extra for neighbors, too.

Our plot (I talked my boyfriend into being co-conspirator in this plan) is teeny-tiny by any serious growing standards. It's not even half an acre. But it is large by backyard garden standards (we have 20 75-square-foot beds, and a lot of mulched pathways), so it yields significantly more than our 2.5 person household could eat, especially since we turn the beds over regularly as crops expire. We just replaced the fading peas with basil seedlings; just sowed another crop of bush beans; and we're even trying a second crop of potatoes. Our autumn weather is mild here on Martha's Vineyard, so we'll see what happens. At any rate, the goal is to produce as much as possible to sell at the farm stand.

The garden is actually on the grounds of a working farm, Native Earth Teaching Farm, which has an existing farm stand building right off the road. (Though we are in a fairly remote part of the Island.) The farmer, Rebecca Gilbert, rents small community gardens to Island folks, and kindly agreed to share a bigger plot with us in exchange for a small fee, some labor, and a percentage of whatever we'd sell at the stand. We got an existing garden (complete with deer fence) and water supply -- and a great spot next to the baby goats!

From the outset, my modest goal (or so I thought) was to recoup my initial investment of about $1600. I don't think I'm going to get there, despite an early boost from a $400 grant from the Martha's Vineyard Agricultural Society. Our start-up expenses included growing lights, soil, and plastic trays for starting seedlings indoors this winter; drip hoses, agricultural fabric (row cover) to keep flea beetles off of cruciferious veggies, compost, and hay mulch for the garden; plastic bags and berry boxes for the farm stand; the garden fee; a little bit of lumber for various structures, including a cold frame; and a few tools. We tried to use found materials whenever possible -- all of our trellises are made from bamboo harvested from a friend's property on the Island, we collected seaweed for mulching the lettuces, and we raked (more) hay (who knew so much mulch was needed to keep the weeds down?) from a friend's field. We bought many of our garden tools at yard sales, and we rebuilt a junky old cart that was headed for the dump. But still, little stuff adds up.

Selling at the farm stand has been a trial-and-error sort of thing. I discovered that people like buying lettuce and other salad greens washed and bagged (out of a cooler) better than buying whole heads of pretty lettuce standing fresh in a bowl of water. (I also discovered that arugula is still VERY popular). So I have spent a lot of time picking greens, taking them home and washing and drying them (I had to buy an extra salad-spinner), and cooling them in the fridge. I kept prices pretty low with these spring and summer greens, as I wanted to encourage repeat customers.

As the summer went on, we realized that in our attempt to experiment with a lot of different vegetables, we hadn't planted enough of some easy sellers. Our Red Gold and French Fingerling potatoes were winners, and at $4 and $5 a pound, good money makers. But they're all gone now. My big bunches of fresh baby carrots and pints of shell peas were hits with the young moms and toddlers who were our biggest traffic early on. (They come to see the animals). I could have sold more if I'd had them, for sure.

And then there have been those low-traffic days when we've hardly had a customer--despite a big blackboard sign we made for the road. During these times, I wished I'd had a better marketing plan, or had gone ahead and plunked down the $400 (plus cost of tent) for a booth at one of the smaller farmers' markets for the summer. But in the blink of an eye, traffic would pick back up at the stand, and I would realize that we really weren't growing enough for a farmers' market. (Which of course, would have been an even bigger time commitment, too, and a bigger risk of over-harvesting without selling.)

Now we have a whole different conundrum. It's August on Martha's Vineyard, the President arrives in two weeks, and our annual population has just increased many times over. There are hungry folks (sophisticated city eaters) swarming over every inch of this Island (even up our way), and what do we have? NO tomatoes! We have 40 tomato plants, hundreds, maybe thousands of green tomatoes -- and every kind of pest imaginable conspiring to destroy them before we can harvest them. (This is an organic garden, of course.) The minute the tomatoes turn pinkish, the birds peck them and the worms find them. (Fortunately, some strategies we started a few days ago are already working, and it looks like we'll have Sun Golds for the weekend. But pests, including potato beetles and squash vine-borers, are a real challenge for first-time -- and experienced -- growers.)

It's all about supply and demand. We're getting lots of traffic at the stand this week (the demand), but we don't have quite the supply we need. If all of those tomatoes ripened and made it out to the stand over the next few weeks, it could be possible to make enough money in the month of August to propel us pretty close to our goal. It's funny, but all of the things that affect big growers -- supply & demand, time & money (no grower properly accounts for his or her time -- if at all), the vagaries of nature, and the economies of scale (mid-size may be better than small or big!) -- affect mini-growers, too, just in a less dramatic way.

My boyfriend is quick to point out that we haven't bought a vegetable at the grocery store in months (except for my recipe development ingredients) and that we also did not spend the $400 on a CSA share this year (which, as an aside, was a great value for everything I got over 22 weeks last year.) If you added the value of the food we've harvested from the garden for ourselves onto the ledger, things would look a lot rosier.

But to me the picture looks rosy, anyway. Because the experience of growing those tiny seedlings in out apartment this winter, of watching them take hold in the garden, and of then witnessing them produce the most beautiful array of delicious edibles you could imagine, is irreplaceable. Also, for me--a girl who left her office job because she couldn't stand to be inside all day--the garden is a great relief from the computer. It's a necessary balance for a good life.

Susie Middleton's first cookbook, Fast, Fresh & Green, was published by Chronicle Books in May, 2010.]]>Fast, Fresh & Green Hits Home With Easy, Delicious Vegetable Recipestag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2010:/theblog//3.6429892010-07-12T11:59:49-04:002011-05-25T17:00:24-04:00Susie Middletonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/susie-middleton/Last week, I watched a goat give birth. It was maybe the most amazing thing I've seen in my whole life. On Wednesday, I harvested potatoes and peas and arugula from my very own "market" garden -- and made $22 selling them at the farm stand (woo-hoo!). That in itself was the fulfillment of a lifelong dream. And then, on Friday, I picked up a copy of People magazine and read a review of my new cookbook, Fast, Fresh & Green, which, as luck would have it, has turned out to be an instant hit.

The juxtaposition of these things seems stranger than fiction to me. Here I am, living on an island, where I arrived two years ago to pursue a simpler, quieter life. This wasn't a casual move. I had to reach a spiritual bottom in order to understand that I needed to be reconnected with the source of my food to be happy. I was a cook and a writer, but in my day (and night) job as the stressed-out chief editor of a cooking magazine, I didn't even have time to get to a farmers' market.

So I traded in my closetful of frilly skirts and pointy-toe shoes for blue jeans and mucky barnyard boots. Swapped the big house for a tiny apartment, the secure salary for the pitiful income of a freelance food writer, the restaurant dinners for local chickens and potlucks at the Ag Hall. I left the office for the stove and the garden, and shed the madness of I-95 for the joy of a ferry ride.

I couldn't be happier or more satisfied. But selfishly, part of me thinks that now I should just get to be citizen Susie, instead of food writer Susie Middleton, who has to go out in the world and promote herself! I just want to grow my vegetables, cook my vegetables, write about my vegetables... oh, yeah, writing. Well, therein lies the truth: If I really just wanted to do my own thing, I wouldn't blog about it, and I wouldn't have written Fast, Fresh & Green the way I did. (The book, by the way, is a collection of more than 90 easy vegetable side dishes organized by nine great techniques for cooking them. I was very lucky to have the wonderful Chronicle Books design and publish the book, so it's not only useful, but pretty, too.)

I didn't write Fast, Fresh & Green for people who are already great cooks, with years of cooking experience under their belts. Nor did I write it for vegetarians or people who are really happy with the number and variety of vegetables they eat every day. (Although many of these folks are, in fact, enjoying cooking from the book.) I wrote the book for everyone who wants to cook with more vegetables. For everyone who cooks for picky eaters who don't think they like vegetables. For people who want to learn basic cooking skills, to cook at home more, and to eat a little better. That's a lot of us.

And what totally makes my day -- makes this food writing thing almost as cool as the goats and the farm stand (and it has nothing to do with People magazine) -- is that folks who've never cooked vegetables are cooking from Fast, Fresh & Green. And people who've been stuck in a vegetable rut tell me they're cooking their way through the entire book! They tell me the recipes (see below for a sample) are easy and delicious, and best of all, that they don't have to run around all over town to find exotic ingredients. I find this so awesome, because I feel strongly about helping people get back in the kitchen.

I think everyone with good cooking skills has a responsibility to share them these days, whether it's with a friend, a small child, or a blog audience. Because cooking at home isn't just one of the keys to a sane, balanced life (I should know!); it's one of the best tools we have as individuals to help (collectively) turn the ship around. The ship carrying the obesity and diabetes epidemics. The ship made of overly processed corn syrup-saturated food, steered by the behemoth known as Big Ag. (One wonders how this ship even floats.) The ship that leaves behind it a wake of citizens disconnected from the natural world of food--the natural world where vegetables are grown and animals raised in symbiotic ways that are sustainable in the long run.

So on days when I feel frustrated about these conundrums and wonder what one individual can do in the face of powerful forces, I consider the simple miracle of home cooking, of eating whole fresh foods, and of the joy that comes from sitting down at the dinner table to eat food that you cooked yourself or even gathered or grew yourself. To celebrate that joy, here's a recipe from Fast, Fresh & Green that makes the most of one of summer's sweetest treats--fresh corn, off the cob.

Summer Corn-off-the-Cob Saute with Chile, Lime & Cilantro

Use this recipe as a template and feel free to make substitutions. Instead of cilantro, use mint or basil (or a combination), replace the lime with lemon, or try a combination of cumin and coriander in place of the ancho chile powder. You could also use a little diced bell pepper in place of some of the onion, or you could add 1/2 teaspoon of minced serrano or jalapeno pepper to the onions.

When you saute corn, it always releases a bit of starch, which will brown on the bottom of the pan. This is the reason I suggest letting the saute sit for a few minutes in the pan after cooking. As the vegetables rest (especially the onions), they will release some moisture that will loosen some of the delicious browned bits, and you can then stir them in.

Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter with the olive oil in a 10-inch straight-sided skillet over medium-low heat. Add the onions and 1/2 teaspoon salt, cover, and cook, stirring occasionally, until translucent, about 5 minutes. Uncover, turn up the heat to medium, and saute, stirring frequently, until lightly browned, another 4 to 5 minutes.

Add the remaining 1 tablespoon butter, the corn kernels, and another 1/2 teaspoon salt. Cook, stirring frequently and scraping the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon, until the corn is tender but still slightly toothy to the bite, 4 to 5 minutes. (It will begin to intensify in color, glisten, and be somewhat shrunken in size). Add the chile powder and cook, stirring, for 1 minute. Stir in the lime zest and remove the pan from the heat. Let the corn saute sit undisturbed for 2 minutes (moisture released from the vegetables as they sit will loosen browned bits) and stir again, scraping up the browned bits from the bottom of the pan.

Season the saute with a few generous grinds of pepper and a good squeeze of the lime. Stir in half of the cilantro. Let sit for another couple of minutes if you have time. Stir and season to taste with more salt, pepper, or lime juice. Stir in the remaining cilantro just before serving.

Serves 4

Tip: I find the safest way to cut corn off the cob is to snap the shucked ears in half first. Then put one half, cut side facing down, on a large cutting board and slice down the cob with a sharp knife using a sawing motion. Keep turning the cob until you've cut off all the kernels. Repeat with the other half. For convenience, I also put a large (old) dishtowel over my cutting board before I start. When I'm done cutting, I can fold the corners of the towel up and easily transfer the kernels to a bowl. Any way you do it, be aware that corn kernels do have a tendency to go flying when you cut them.

Susie Middleton is the former editor and current editor at large for Fine Cooking magazine. She blogs about cooking and growing vegetables on Martha's Vineyard at sixburnersue.com. Her first cookbook, Fast, Fresh & Green, is available at your local independent bookstore (and online, of course.)
]]>Fresh Eggs, Grace, Rebirth, & Popoverstag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2010:/theblog//3.5242042010-04-03T11:37:20-04:002011-05-25T16:00:23-04:00Susie Middletonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/susie-middleton/

Some days I let gratitude slip away. I forget to be thankful for all the amazing little things in my new life. But most days I pinch myself when I wake up, just to make sure I haven't passed on to another world.

In a way, living on the island of Martha's Vineyard is like another world for me -- so different from the frantic Connecticut suburb I came from. Back there, to get anywhere, I had to encounter Route 1 - bumper-to-bumper cars, McDonald's, Kentucky Fried Chicken, TJ Maxx, Home Depot, and millions of harried people rushing, rushing, rushing. And Route 1 is where the giant Stop n Shop lives, where you go to get your highly processed, mass-produced, Big Ag-"farmed" food.

Here, on my way into town, I pass not one, but three farms where I can stop in to the barn, leave a few dollars, and help myself to a carton of fresh eggs. Often I get to say hello to the hens, or the farmers who keep them. I always peek inside the carton to see the colors of my eggs. Sometimes they're the color of last night's foggy spring twilight -- hazy grey and dusty blue all at once. Sometimes they're just brown and speckly; sometimes they're pointy, sometimes petite. But always their yolks are plump and perky and marigold-yellow.

I'm not sure I can adequately explain the joy that cooking with these eggs gives me, but for me, its grace. My idea of grace is an otherwise inexplicable gift in one's life, the gift of something you didn't know you needed so badly. For me, the malaise of my old life was watered by a disconnection from the natural world -- the world of where my food comes from. I can't say that I could articulate that then, but now, many dozens of fresh eggs later, I can.

I'm thinking about this a lot on Easter weekend, when we celebrate the power of rebirth, and the possibility for change. Three years ago, I would never have believed I had the power to make a whole new life for myself. But then, that's grace. Whether you celebrate Easter or welcome the amazing green rebirth we call Spring with some other kind of celebration, it's a good time to think about the tiny gifts you get in life -- and the power in accepting them.

I'll be celebrating tomorrow with eggs, of course. Another gift in my life is the willingness to accept treasures from the past -- to carry forward the best of my old life into my new. And my father's famous popover recipe is a childhood memory I will always hold close. In our house, making these puffy, custardy wonders has always been a Christmas morning tradition. But really, I think they're the perfect Easter morning celebration.

Popovers

For the lightest, puffiest popovers, put your eggs and milk out on your kitchen counter over night to let them come to room temperature. In the morning, the batter comes together very quickly in a blender.

Heat the oven to 425°. Spray a nonstick popover pan with nonstick spray. Combine the milk, flour, and salt in a blender and blend thoroughly. Add the eggs to the blender and blend until smooth. Lastly (with the blender running, if possible), blend in the melted butter.

Divide the popover batter equally among the 6 cups. Bake for 20 minutes. Reduce the oven temperature to 325° and continue baking until the popovers are very puffed and a deep golden brown, about another 15 minutes.

Serve warm with more butter.

Makes 6 popovers.

Susie Middleton is the author of a new veggie cookbook, Fast, Fresh & Green (Chronicle Books, April 2010). Visit her at sixburnersue.com]]>Friday Night is Pizza Night--At Hometag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2010:/theblog//3.4781412010-02-26T10:56:37-05:002011-05-25T15:40:24-04:00Susie Middletonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/susie-middleton/The Week of Eating In, and you're probably thinking, well, I kind of deserve to go out. Plus, it's nice to be kind of social on a Friday night. If you're tempted, maybe if you read this Huff Post on all the waste we generate when we eat out, you might hedge back towards staying home tonight. But flipping over to the positive, I have an even better reason for eating in tonight--home made pizza.

Because our eat-out options are limited in the winter on Martha's Vineyard, and because my boyfriend and I often have his 7-year-old daughter on a Friday night, we've gotten in the habit of making Friday night Pizza Night, at home. It's a totally fun activity; I put out a lot of toppings and everyone makes his or her own. I usually have a few different types of cheeses, both grated (parmesan, mozz, fontina) and crumbled (goat cheese is a favorite--I like white pizzas.) I saute some mushrooms and some onions, dice up sundried tomatoes and olives, cook a little bit of local sausage for the meaty eaters, and have some fresh herbs, sea salt, and good olive oil on hand for finishing. (If you've got time or the inclination to make some other toppings--maybe this weekend for next week's Pizza Night--you can find great recipes for roasted garlic, basil pesto, caramelized onions, and roasted tomatoes on www.finecooking.com.) As for sauce, you can make a quick tomato sauce from canned tomatoes, or you can buy (inexpensively and it doesn't have many additives) a jar of pizza sauce (kids like this).

Best of all, pizza dough is way easier to make at home than you think. During my years as an editor at Fine Cooking magazine, one of my very favorite stories was this one on Make and Freeze Pizza Dough by Evan Kleiman. This super-easy dough is made in the food processor, and takes about two seconds. (You'll have the flour, salt, and olive oil on hand. The only challenge for you snow-bound kids today will be finding a package of yeast.) There's very little kneading involved (also kid-friendly, if a bit kitchen-messy), and the dough divides nicely into 6 or 8 "individual" pizzas so everyone can customize his or her own. You can easily make a second batch if you want to have more friends in. The dough balls rise in a little less than an hour in a warm kitchen--just the right amount of time to have some drinks with friends in the kitchen while you put together your toppings.

Ideally, you'd bake your pizza on a pizza (or baking) stone (at 500 degrees), but if you don't have one, try baking your pizza on the back of a heavy duty sheet pan that's been pre-warmed in the oven. (Some folks also improvise a baking stone with unglazed terra cotta tiles bought at home stores. I've been told that imported tiles can contain lead, so do be aware of this.) You can also use a sheet pan (sprinkled with corn meal) to improvise a pizza peel (usually the easiest way to get a pizza in and out of the oven.)

Any way you do this, it's impossible not to have fun. Once you try it with a few friends or your family, I think you'll find yourself looking forward to Eating In on Friday nights.

Lately I have been stuck (I mean blessed) with massive amounts of turnips, carrots, potatoes and onions. It's that darned (I mean wonderful) winter CSA share I've got. I've also been on deadline, a little short on time...and surprised when dinner hour arrives sooner than I thought. Yikes, I've got to improvise something with all those rootie-tooties again--something my boyfriend, Mr. Meat and Potatoes, will eat.

To the rescue: My cast iron pan. There's an amazing alchemy that happens to root vegetables (diced up and tossed with happy amounts of good olive oil) when they are very slowly sautéed in a cast iron pan. Cast iron retains and distributes heats so well that you can cook the vegetables over fairly low heat (avoiding the risk of burning before being cooked through), stirring only every once in a while, until they are deeply golden and cooked through. You'd think you'd need to boil or par-cook root vegetables in some way before sautéing them, but the secret to slow-sautéing successfully is to actually overcrowd the pan at the start (not usually good advice for sautéing moister veg), so that the roots steam a bit, too, while they are caramelizing. The end result is so incredibly sweet and intriguingly delicious, that I promise you--anyone will eat these. The added bonus is that once you get these veg in the pan, you can go back to doing other things for the next 35 or 40 minutes, simply stopping by every once in a while to stir and maybe adjust the heat.

For these sautés, I use a combination of vegetables (all cut the same size) that I think will cook at about the same rate. (Choose from turnips, rutabagas, carrots, potatoes, and celery root.) I always dice up some onions or leeks, too (or slice shallots), and add them about halfway through cooking, when they will add moisture and flavor. (Any sooner and they'd burn before the roots are done.) I always throw in some rosemary, thyme, or sage sprigs.

If you want to add these veg to your Week of Eating In strategy, you don't really need a recipe--just some guidelines and proportions:

Slow-Sauteed Turnips, Potatoes & Carrots: For a 10-inch cast-iron pan, dice ½ pound trimmed (but unpeeled) purple-topped turnips, ½ pound unpeeled Yukon Gold potatoes, and ½ pound peeled carrots. Pour 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil into the pan and place it over medium-high heat. Add the veggies, several herb sprigs, and about ½ tsp. kosher salt. Stir well. Reduce the heat to medium. As the vegetables cook, stir and flip them with a metal spatula every so often, and, if necessary, gradually reduce the heat as they brown so that you hear a consistently gentle sizzle from the pan. (Any louder and the veg may be browning too quickly.) After about 20 minutes, add a medium onion, diced, and continue stirring and flipping until the vegetables are caramelized and cooked through, about 15 more minutes. Remove herb sprigs before serving.

If you don't have a cast-iron pan, you can certainly do this kind of sauté in a stainless steel straight-sided skillet. Just keep in mind that you might need to add a bit more oil or watch the temperature a little more carefully. But a cast iron pan is such a versatile thing that I think you won't be sorry if you get one. (Click here for a great video of making cornbread in a cast iron pan.) If you're not in a rush and you like the idea of reusing, chances are you can find a well-seasoned pan at a flea market or in an older relative's kitchen. But these days you can also get a pre-seasoned 10-inch Lodge cast-iron skillet for only about $15. They're great for sear-roasting chicken (browning on the stovetop and then plopping in the oven), and you can even use them on the grill.